


drop the beat

by saretus



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Fainting, M/M, Mild Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 16:38:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19113601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saretus/pseuds/saretus
Summary: Fill for: 'Ignis working himself so hard and getting so stressed out he ends up having a heart attack/scare.'





	drop the beat

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt [here](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/5690.html?thread=11559482#cmt11559482).

His hands are shaking.

It’s a common occurrence, Ignis knows, along with the nausea in his belly, the tiredness weighing down his limbs. It’s so common that he knows when to brush it all off, when to carry on with his tasks, because that’s when his body decides that the stress in his everyday life is too much for him, that he should stop while he’s ahead.

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t wish to.

This is his job, after all. If he is unable to take on the load he has, then he is unable to serve the prince. If he is unable to serve the prince, then he will be taken away.

It’s a silly notion, of course. He knows that. King Regis has power over whatever ill the council decides to bring, and more than that, King Regis is an understanding leader. He’ll forgive whatever burdens Ignis wishes to unload from himself, but then that means it’s another burden that may fall to him and to Noct.

And Ignis sorely does not want that.

Noct’s smile is infectious when he looks up at Ignis from the couch in the living area. He and Prompto are there, playing some game that Ignis cannot recall through the strange haze of light-headedness that’s settled upon him like a cloak. Gladio stands in the balcony, on the phone to his sister. Ignis smiles back at Noct.

“You alright, Specs?” Noct asks. His uniform is rumpled. It’s the last day of the week. Ignis doesn’t feel as carefree as Noct right now, but he doesn’t bear any ill will towards him. Noct deserves to be as happy as possible.

“Yeah, you sure you don’t need any help?” Prompto still doesn’t meet his eyes properly, but he gives small glances. It’s more than enough.

Ignis shakes his head and just smiles at them. Something grips his arm painfully tight, spreading to his shoulder, and he draws in a short breath. He checks briefly. Nothing there. “Carry on,” he manages to say, and carries on chopping up potatoes for fries.

A rare treat for Noct since he did so well on his exam. For Prompto as well, of course, considering he did excellent too. If Ignis were an angel, then he would complete exclude any and all vegetables from the meal. However, he’s hard-pressed to risk Noct’s nutrition just for a reward. Perhaps he’ll chop the onions finer than he usually does when mixing it in with the mincemeat.

He continues. The boys return to their game. Gladio comes inside and stands by the door, watching the game and ribbing the loser whenever the end of a match comes. Ignis focuses on breathing, and ignores the way the tightness has spread to his jaw.

It’s merely stress and anxiety. Symptoms that can be ignored and altogether glossed over. Perhaps he’ll see a doctor tomorrow. Yes, yes, that’s fine. He’ll find some spare fifteen minutes in his schedule and see if he can’t push the meeting up until half-past nine instead in the morning. At least Noct will have something good to eat and then—

He’s stopped moving, he realizes, and slowly continues. He feels a cold sweat coming on. Breathing is slightly harder than before.

 _Merely stress_ , he tells himself again, because that’s all it is. Anxiety always summons up problems, so he’ll pay attention to his body when it doesn’t need the attention. It’s frustrating at most. Certainly, something he’ll have to find some way to alleviate so he doesn’t have to deal with so many… symptoms at once…

His chest feels tight, now. Too tight. He tries breathing in slowly but can’t. He drops the knife.

He doesn’t try to dodge. He feels the edge catch on his pants, sluicing through the fabric and shaving off a fair chunk of flesh. He knows he took the time to sharpen it earlier today. That may have been his undoing.

As it is, he can’t quite feel the pain yet. The knife lays on the ground and his pant leg is ruined, the cloth hanging haphazardly in half. He’ll have to schedule in time to get that fixed as well at some point.

“Specs? Hey, Ignis?”

Noct’s suddenly in front of him. He looks worried. Ignis shakes his head. He draws in a rattled breath and clutches at the countertop. Is his heart beating? Is that it pounding fiercely in his ears?

He feels Noct grab his arm. “Ignis!” he calls, panicked now. He looks so young for someone who’s been through so much. He looks scared.

Prompto’s behind him, panicking as well. “What’s happening to him? What do we do? What do we do?!” His voice is high in distress.

Ignis swallows and tries to say something. He can’t quite get the words past the tingling in his lips. His legs feel weak, and he tries gasping in more air to speak.

“I-I’m fine—” he gasps out, because he doesn’t wish to see Noct look so worried, so afraid for him. Of course, he knows that won’t work, but it’s an automatic response for him anyway. _I’m fine_. Such a common white lie.

Gladio snarls at him, as expected. “That’s so bullshit!” He grabs Ignis’ other arm.

Noct immediately follows up with: “what’s wrong, specs? Don’t give me that crap about being fine!”

He feels both weak and incredibly energized. He wants to walk around the room to prove he’s okay, but his visions going strange. Spots appear over his vision, and he gasps heavily, helplessly. He hates it.

Suddenly, he’s on the ground. The knife is in front of him. His legs have folded up under him. There’s a sharp pain on his shin, which is surely the unintentional flaying, and he sees spots of blood drooling down his skin. Gladio’s gone from his side, he realizes as he presses his cheek against the cool counter wall. Noct is still there, though, gathering Ignis in his arms immediately and tightly.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, Specs,” Noct mutters urgently. Ignis feels a hand stroke his hair, and tries looking up at Noct. He feels far too weak for that, however, and instead tries to blink the grey out of his vision. “You’re okay, you’re gonna be okay…”

Noct’s voice is soothing. Ignis’ limbs feel strange, uncoordinated.

He passes out.

* * *

 

He comes to an unknown amount of time later.

He’s still lying on the ground. His legs have been spread out to make him more comfortable, and there’s a warmth underneath him. He blinks his eyes open, and sees Noct’s face above him, staring down at him worriedly. The prince’s hand is carefully brushing hair from Ignis’ face and Ignis takes in an experimental breath. Slowly, deeply.

He can breathe.

“Specs,” Noct says in relief. He’s holding Ignis’ hand tightly. It’s a pleasant sensation. “Hey. Are you—are you okay?” There’s underlying stress in his expression, and Ignis swallows. He caused that.

“My—apologies. I’m fine now.” Ignis’ throat is dry. As if reading his mind, Noct wordlessly hands him a water bottle and helps Ignis sit up when he moves to drink it.

“You fainted,” Gladio says bluntly somewhere behind him. Ignis feels shame burn his cheeks when he looks and sees him crouching at his back. Prompto lingers standing, fidgeting anxiously, just behind him. “Only real injury is your leg.”

Ignis winces, if only because he’s reminded of that. He glances towards it and sees that it’s bandaged efficiently. It twinges when he tries to move it, and Noct puts a warning hand on his thigh to stop him from shifting too much. “How long was I out?” His voice is hoarse, as if he hadn’t just drunk.

“A few minutes,” Prompto says nervously. He’s flitting in and out of his vision, and not because it’s wavering again. “We were pretty close to calling an ambulance ‘cause you were—you looked real out of it and pale and—”

“But we didn’t,” Gladio cuts in. His voice is hard. “I checked your vitals. You’re fine. Whatever just happened was outta stress.”

Ignis’ heart plummets. He was right after all. He swallows and straightens. “My apologies,” he says immediately, averting his gaze as shame sweeps through him. “I didn’t mean to ruin your activities with this.”

“It’s cool, Specs,” Noct says sceptically, slowly. He’s eyeing Ignis when Ignis looks up again, then leans in to kiss him quickly. “Just—as long as you’re okay. And what’s this about stress?” he huffs out.

Ignis closes his eyes at the peck and just shakes his head. “Nothing you need to worry about immediately.” He doesn’t lie.

Noct looks at him and seems to decide that as well. “So you’ll take care of it? You’ll be okay?”

“Yes, Highness.”

Gladio moves off, obviously already done with the conversation. Prompto lingers, glancing between Gladio and Noct like he doesn’t know what to do. Ignis nudges Noct gently.

“Go play your game.”

“If you’re sure…” Noct still looks uncertain but he stands. He reaches to help Ignis to his feet, and he accepts gratefully, wincing when the movement aggravates his wound. “Hey, come sit with us.”

Ignis hesitates. “The food…”

“C’mon, we’ll order pizza.” Noct grins up at him and takes his hand, tugging him towards the couch. Prompto follows, jumping back into his usual place.

“Terrible,” Ignis says, but he can’t help the smile curving his lips.

Noct’s happy. He’s wrapping an arm tightly around Ignis’ waist and playing the game with one hand. His night doesn’t seem to have been ruined too much, after all. Prompto is ordering pizza. Gladio seems to have temporarily absconded.

Ignis inhales slowly. Exhales just as slowly. Everything is fine after all.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't think this was the best fill for that kinda prompt..... the story kinda ran away from me fml


End file.
